


Saint Lambert

by fannishliss



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Amnesia, Crack Treated Seriously, Empress Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Gen, Healers, Keira is a Healer in this, saint Lambert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29539473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: Ciri needed to tour her Empire, to see what was going well and what needed fixing. She never expected to find her dead uncle, alive and well, and working in a hospital.
Relationships: Lambert/Keira Metz
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Saint Lambert

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, there is just one reason for this story:  
> Saint Camillus de Lellis is a dead ringer for Lambert. Just google images and you will see what I mean!  
> Not only that, in his biography as well he is a dead ringer for Lambert. So I just had to write this story. 
> 
> St Camillus was the first to wear the Red Cross as a healer in battlefields, a compulsive gambler and a soldier for hire. :)

With the crown secured and the empire settling, Ciri decided that a grand tour was in order. 

Of course she could teleport directly to any location, but traveling with a retinue was more in keeping with the bureaucratic ways of Nilfgaard, and in truth, the secretaries, functionaries and record-keepers were useful at making sure a good idea was written down, codified, actually implemented rather than just floating around in someone’s head. 

With the southern half of the Continent under her rule, Ciri had a lot of work cut out for her.She felt it was very important to visit different cities and principalities, to learn what was working and what wasn’t, and to let the people know she wasn’t the type of Empress who would merely collect taxes and lounge about in the royal palace.She wanted to make it possible for her people's lives to truly improve. 

When she heard about a hospital devoted to taking care of veterans from both sides who’d been disabled by the war, she knew it was important to recognize those who were running it.Even Witchers like Geralt sometimes never fully healed from their injuries, so it wasn’t a surprise that magic could not always fully heal humans — especially when their injuries were old and had healed up badly, or when they didn’t have the resources to pay for magical intervention. 

Ciri had two bodyguards and two excellent secretaries with her as she toured the hospital.It was clean and simple, with hard working attendants.There was suffering, and there were grievous injuries, but at least the people here were trying to help. 

They toured the wards,recreation hall and library,kitchen and dining hall, and were heading out to look at the kitchen garden and grounds, when Ciri was shocked to hear a familiar voice she’d thought she’d never hear again. 

“You can do it, man,” Ciri heard that gruff voice encouraging. 

“Lambert!” she exclaimed. Her heart pounded at the vision of her uncle, seemingly healthy, and more importantly, alive, when he’d been lost, presumed killed in action, in one of the bloodiest battles of the wars. 

“Fuck right off,” he continued, “I’m busy!” 

Ciri would know the dark-haired witcher anywhere, despite his complete lack of armor.He had a terrible scar on the side of his head, revealed by his closely cropped hair and deep widow’s peak. 

Ciri’s guards bristled at the Witcher’s rude words, but she held her hand out, quieting them. 

Lambert was encouraging a man who was struggling to walk with an artificial leg. As the man walked, Lambert stood near him, ready to support him if he seemed like he was about to fall. 

Back from the days of her training, Ciri remembered Lambert’s salty speech and his gruff but loving nature.He hadn’t changed a bit. 

“Come on, you’re doing great.Look how much stronger you are than just last week.” 

“This leg is a fucker!” the man exclaimed. 

“Curse it all to hell, but make it do your bidding!” Lambert shouted. 

“Argh!” the man said, finally making it to the bench he’d been heading for. 

“Terrific!” Lambert encouraged.“Hard to believe you’ve only been at it for a few weeks, huh? I know it’s hard, but think how great it will be when you’ve really learned to walk on it!” 

“Yeah,” the other man said, panting. “I don’t think I could do it without you, Camillus.”

“Camillus?” Ciri murmured. 

“Well, now,” Lambert said, blushing. “I mean, you can thank Kiera for the leg.” 

“Sure, but you’re the one out here every day working with all of us.” 

“You’d have done the same for me,” Lambert said. 

“I hope I would have,” the man said, slapping the Witcher on the shoulder. 

Lambert helped the man into his wheeled chair and rolled him toward the dining hall, without another look at Ciri. 

Ciri seated herself and let her attendants see about getting them all plates. She waited until the man had received his meal, then sent Broderick, the more courteous of her two guards to tap on Lambert’s shoulder. 

“Her Excellency would like to speak with you,” Broderick said. 

Lambert rolled his eyes, but stood up.Clad all in black, but without any of his armor, and walking with a pronounced limp, he ambled over to her table. 

“What can I do for you, your Excellency?” Lambert drawled. 

“Please, have a seat,” Ciri said. 

Lambert said, “I was just having lunch…” 

Broderick put Lambert’s meal down in front of the seat Ciri had indicated. 

“Fuck,” Lambert muttered, and sat. 

“What’s your name?” Ciri said, not wanting to waste time on small talk. 

“I’m called Camillus,” Lambert said. “If you know me by some other name, too bad. I don’t remember my previous life.” 

“Well — you’re my uncle,” Ciri said. 

Lambert’s jaw dropped. “Bull SHIT,” he exclaimed.“I never was uncle to no Queen or whatever you are!” 

“I’m the Empress Cirilla of Nilfgaard,” Ciri said, “but you knew me when I was orphaned and alone.You helped raise me. I owe you my life.” 

“Fuck,” Lambert whispered again. 

“How did you come to be here?” Ciri asked. “We heard you were killed, but never located your body.” 

“Well, it’s true I was found on a battlefield — all my armor and everything looted off my body — terrible wounds — and no memories. Some people call me a Witcher — but Idon’t remember the battle or anything but waking up, cut half to pieces. I couldn’t do much but help the other wounded, so that’s what I’ve been doing ever since I got back on my feet.” 

“Your name is Lambert, you’re a Witcher from the School of the Wolf,” Ciri said. 

“I’m not a Witcher anymore,” Lambert said, shaking his head.“I can’t walk the Path fighting monsters or whatever it is they do. I’ve got a life here, and I’m not gonna give that up!” 

“You don’t have to,” Ciri said.“I have it in my power to give your hospital the backing of my crown.” 

“Talk to Keira about all that,” Lambert said. “She’s the brains of this operation.” 

“Ha!” Ciri laughed, thinking of Lambert’s brilliant scientific mind. “So you don’t distill anymore?” 

Lambert amazed Ciri by blushing deep red. “You got me,” he said. “Keira can’t do it all on her own.” 

“Who’s this Keira?” Ciri wondered. 

“She’s a healer. I just do what she says needs done.” 

“You never were much for doing what you were told,” Ciri said. 

“Well, I do what Keira says, cause she’s my wife,” Lambert muttered. 

“Congratulations!” Ciri exclaimed. “Oh Lambert, that’s wonderful! I can’t wait to tell Geralt and Eskel!” 

“Call me Camillus,” Lambert said. “And who are Gerald and Askil?” 

“Your brothers.” 

“I have brothers?” 

“Yes!They’re going to be so happy.Camillus, Destiny led me here to find you. I’m so happy to see you!” 

Ciri just wanted to hug her uncle, and despite her fine garb and jewels and elaborate hairstyle, she felt like that same threadbare orphan she’d been when she’d first set foot inside Kaer Morhen.Lambert, the rowdiest loudmouth of the bunch, had loved her fiercely. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she hugged him, back from the dead. 

“Your Excellency,” Broderick murmured. 

Ciri lifted her head from Lambert’s neck.He still smelled the same, and even though he didn’t seem to remember her, his hug was just as comforting as ever. 

A blond woman clad in loose clothes just like Lambert’s had wandered in and was waiting at a respectful distance. 

“Keira, hey!Guess what? This lady's my niece!” Lambert yelled. 

“Pardon, your Excellency, but can that be true?” the healer Keira asked. 

“Yes,” Ciri said.“Your hospital is doing such wonderful work. I want to send healers here to study and learn your methods.” 

“Thank you, your Excellency,” Keira smiled. 

“Please, you’re my new Aunt,” the Empress laughed. “You have to call me Ciri.” 

“Then you’ll have tell me about my husband,” Keira said, “starting with his appalling weakness for Gwent.” 

Ciri laughed. “Some things never change!” 

Lambert just smiled, his old bitterness healed by the joy of finding his way into a new life. Ciri rejoiced, to find her lost uncle happy and well. 


End file.
